Catching a Gypsy
by AsherKingofWeebs
Summary: One year after Lucien's downfall, Reaver finds himself back in Bloodstone to repay his debt to the Shadow Court, and craving the attention of a certain orphan Gypsy. Sparrow, on the other hand, is perfectly fine without him. Sparrow/Reaver, Rated M for later chapters.
1. Prologue: Midnight Meeting

A/N: Okay, this is my first uploaded fanfic, and it isn't really as nice as I'd like it to be, but here it is! I don't own Fable or Reaver, though I certainly wish I did! Future chapters _will_ be longer, I promise!

Fire crackled in the fireplace grate of the Bloodstone manor's study, filling the large room with warmth and soft light that danced along the contours of the Pirate King's face. His eyes were closed, his lips tugged slightly downward as he swirled the brandy in his glass. He could feel the wrinkles beginning to come back; it would be time to find a new sacrifice soon. He let out a small laugh, remembering vividly how a sweet little girl had sauntered into his manor with wide hips and a narrow mind fixed on revenge, and it was with amusement that he drained the last of his glass, his lips forming into a wide smile as he indulged himself in the memories of that fateful meeting. He had thought her mute at first, actually, with how silent she was, though that thought had been quickly rectified as she spat curses at him under her breath when he called her a nobody.

His eyes cracked open at the sight of a pretty young boy making his way into the study, the fire playing off of his eyes and doing nothing to hide the carnal lust behind them. He welcomed the shivering boy into his arms before trailing hot kisses across his soft skin, revelling in the knowledge that its perfection would soon be his. His fingers trailed over the dark seal, and he planted it in the arms of the boy, who now looked flushed and bewildered. "We're taking this to Wraithmarsh," he murmured, ignoring the child's cries of distress, knocking him on the head and slinging him over his shoulder before toting the boy and seal with him to the shrieking, howling waste that was once Oakvale.


	2. Chapter 1: Supply Run

A/N: Okay, here we go with the first chapter! It's longer than the prologue, and I promise that we'll get to all the action soon. Once again, I don't own fable or reaver. Please please PLEASE review after reading, I really love comments on my work!

Chapter One: Supply Run

Reaver strode easily out of Wraithmarsh, reinvigorated with new youth as he made his way to his ship, alerting his crew to wake up and set sail for Bowerstone. It was still relatively dark when they set off from the harbour, the first inklings of dawn just beginning to seep over the horizon, and he shrugged off his clothing upon entering the captain's quarters. "Anyone to wake me before noon without a good reason will be shot," he said, loud enough for his crew to hear. With a yawn, he flopped onto his bed, shielding his eyes from the rising sun as he drifted off to sleep.

Sparrow stretched as the beginnings of afternoon began to unfold, golden light spilling into her caravan and caressing her skin. Her fingers were laced with those of her husband, a gold ring glittering on her ring finger. She smiled softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and inhaling the scent of incense and nature on his skin. A soft, rumbling laughter filled the caravan, and she felt fingers gently trailing their way up her thigh, her own hand suddenly devoid of his.

"It's very nearly afternoon," he spoke, his voice soft as he watched her eyes opening slowly, "And as much as I do enjoy laying here with you, I'm afraid we did agree to help secure some goods for the camp today."

Sparrow simply nodded, stretching out once more before a warmth on her breast made her jump slightly. "Bit early for that," she mumbled, threading her fingers through his hair as he planted kisses along her collarbone and up her neck.

"Early for you," he retorted, a playful glint in his eyes. "I've had to lay here for hours with you, my dear, and to say that you're beautiful is a vast understatement." He claimed her lips with his then, and she responded sleepily. "Very well," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. "Tonight, then." She nodded, yawning, and he got up, stretching and tugging on a shirt. "I'll get everything ready, so you go ahead and take your time." Once again, she replied with only a nod, and he was gone from the doorway, leaving her to her thoughts.

Sparrow emerged from the caravan not long after her husband, offering sleepy smiles to anyone she passed on the way to see her husband. With the list of needed supplies in hand, he placed his hand on the small of her back, noting her frown as they walked out of the gates together. "What's wrong, Sparrow?"

"I'd feel much more comfortable if I could go alone," she mumbled, holding her crossbow lightly. "These roads are dangerous, even with Lucien's men gone. I don't want you getting hurt."

He smiled then, planting a kiss on her cheek. "I appreciate your concern," he said, "But I know my way around a fight, love. You didn't marry me for my ability to cower behind crates."

And he was right. She knew he was a good fighter, and if the nearly bulging muscles on his arms said anything, she knew perfectly well that he could fend off anything that got too close for her to shoot. Relaxing into his hold, they carefully made their way to the bowerstone market.


End file.
